So, my husband snores. A few days ago, I totally lost it and said and did some shameful things during the night, having been robbed of My Precious Sleep.
The next morning, I felt wretched. My husband—who, I assure you, has never heard of Venerable Bruno Lanteri, said what he always says: "Don't worry about it, hon...now we begin."
Still, I had to go to confession. I mean, losing my temper, throwing things, taking the Lord's Name in vain...yikes!
To my rather embarrassed chagrin, my confessor asked: "Is this about your husband's snoring again?" Feeling like a jerk, I had to admit it. Yep, that was the...catalyst.
He gave me wonderful penance, which included reading Sirach 28. (A great read, by the way.)
Evidently I'm not perfect in the let's-get-some-sleep department.
My husband laughingly informed me that I talk in my sleep. He's mentioned this before, always lightly, always tenderly, always with gentle amusement. This time, though, he was laughing so hard I thought he'd hurt himself. When he got under a semblance of control, I asked him what I'd said. Obligingly, he told me:
"Oh please, whatever you do, don't snore, I couldn't bear telling Father X about it again!"
Moral: Watch your tongue!
Holy Week is upon us, Lent has been a bear, and, a baby. - I trust you have been having a blessed and holy Lent. I seem to remember last year as not needing a lot of additional disciplines, as they came pre-pac...
1 year ago